


Legacy

by skyegazer8



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Identity Issues, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Sexual Frustration, Sexual Humor, Strong Female Characters, expolsions, some minor mental breakdowns, spy shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 23:38:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1447126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyegazer8/pseuds/skyegazer8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve has hit dead end after dead end searching for Bucky. And his new 'wingman' Sam Wilson has left to spend time with his family, leaving him alone. On top of that, Peggy Carter just died. Steve just doesn't know what to do. So when Peggy's granddaughter Maggie asks for his help for something Peggy had left to her, he jumps at the chance. Only, he's not sure what he's gotten himself into, and neither does Maggie. Together, they try to figure out exactly what Peggy meant by her dying words. And once they find out, well, that's just the beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The End that Brought the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This story begins after events in Captain America: Winter Soldier.
> 
> Also, sorry if there are some inaccuracies within the story. I took creative license to help it along.

“What ya think, Cap? Deserted?”  
Steve Rogers eyes scanned the apparently empty warehouse. It was dark, and the moonbeams shimmered through the broken glass in the windows. As he stepped over trash that littered the warehouse floor, he perked up his ears, listening for anything and everything.

“Nah, it’s never that easy.” Sam chuckled as he, with his AK 47 at ready, quickly maneuvered around a high stack of crates.

Steve sought, almost desperately, for any sign that Bucky had been or was here. Hell, he’d even take someone who knew his whereabouts. He has been searching for months. And with every day that passed, his quest had seemed more and more futile. Natasha had been right; Bucky was a ghost, and he was haunting Steve. He almost thought he’d go insane.

Thank goodness for Sam. Anytime Steve felt like he was going to drown in his hopelessness, Sam would always crack a joke, making light of their grim situation.

“Hey Steve,” Sam’s voice pulled Steve out of his internal reflections, “Someone’s been here recently; these footprints are fresh.”

Steve glanced around the cavernous room again, and this time catching something he hadn’t noticed before. He had been too far away, but now he could clearly see the door on the far side of the room was ajar.  
It may be nothing, but Steve knew in his gut it wasn’t.

He caught Sam’s eye, and he motioned his head towards the door. Sam nodded, and slowly crept in that direction. Steve did the same, and when they reached it, they flanked either side of the door. Sam looked at Steve for affirmation. Steve held up three fingers and counted down. Once he ticked down to zero, he banged open the door, but maintained his position, as did Sam. As soon as the door opened, bullets started flying out of the darkness. They came in a rapid, steady stream, and eventually the bullet fire slackened, then stopped altogether. Steve remained where he was, thankfully, because then two more shots rang out randomly. Then, just like he knew they would, the men walked through the doorway.

With a few well-placed punches, bodies lay on the floor at awkward angles, silent. Steve stormed the room, shield raised. Bullets ricocheted from the vibrainium. He pulled his glock from its holster, and in a swift session shot three Hydra members. More people spilled out from another room, and together Steve and Sam made a quick job of the rest of the men.

“Is it just me, or do these guys seem like amateurs?” Sam yelled over to Steve as he kneed the guy he was fighting in the face.

“Amateurs!” Steve shouted back after he punched somebody square in the chest, sending him back several feet, slamming him into a concrete wall.

Their laughter reverberated in the room while the floor was scattered with bodies of Hydra members. After they, mostly Sam, caught their breaths Sam saw a dim glow emitting from the next room, and pointed it out to Steve. They entered the room, and Steve strode towards the window. He gripped the ankle that was almost out the window, and yanked the rest of the body back into the room. It landed with a bone-jarring thud, and grunt of pain.

“Leaving without saying ‘Goodbye’?” Steve placed his boot firmly on the man’s sternum.

“Now that’s just rude.” Sam stood nearby with his arms crossed.

Steve smirked before applying pressure on the man, causing him to grasp for breath. “You know what I want. Don’t make this hard on yourself.”

Hands clutched at his boot, trying frantically to remove it from crushing his chest. Of course, such attempts were done in vain.

“I will never tell you anything!” His voice rasped out the words.

“You know, just once I would like one of you to answer.” He pressed down harder, until he could hear the faint sound of bones fracturing.

“Ahhhh, you should not be worrying about the Winter Soldier!” The man’s words were laced with pain.

That caught Steve’s attention. “What do you mean?”

“You will know soon enough, Super Soldier. Hail Hydra!”

“Yeah yeah yeah. Tell someone who hasn't heard it before.” Steve knew it was a lost cause, so he cut off one head and made sure there weren't two more.

After him and Sam finished their sweep of the place, and collected the computer that had been in the room with the last Hydra member, they strolled out of the warehouse. They walked about half a mile down the road heavily-lined with trees to where they had left their truck. Once, Steve started the engine, and Sam opened the laptop. Steve drove, silently brooding, while Sam clicked away at the keys. They had been driving for a good ten minutes before Sam spoke.

“There’s no way I can get on this thing; the encryption’s too difficult for me.” Steve just responded with a jerk of his head.

“Also, I’ve been meaning to mention this, and I know this might be a bad time, but look, my mom’s birthday is in a couple of days, and she would kill me if I missed another one. Is it alright if I take a few days?”

“Of course, Sam. I would never want to get in between you and your family.”

“Thanks, man” He clapped Steve on the shoulder, then relaxed back into his seat. “I’m gonna get some shut-eye, or else I will never hear the end of it from my mom. ‘Samuel, you look dead on your feet. Have you been getting eight hours every night, young man?’”

Steve chortled, and continued to drive through the night as his companion’s breathing became shallower and shallower until soft snores filled the car.

***

Maggie was numb. The sensation took over her body ever since she got THE call. She was in her apartment, checking her emails, when it happened. Her mother’s number popped up on her mobile, and she answered not thinking anything of it.

“Maggie, you need to get here now. It’s time.” And thus it began.

She hung up with her mother, and in a dream-like state packed a duffel bag, and headed for the airport. She dug out her emergency credit card, handed to the lady and bought a ticket from Austin, Texas to Washington D.C. There must have been a look in her eyes, because the lady questioned her well-being. Maggie waved her off, but she knew that her being was not well.

She was still in shock when she boarded the plane, when the kid next to her wouldn’t stop crying, when the plane hit a bit a terrifying turbulence, and when the plane landed.

It wasn’t until Maggie got into the cab, and told the driver her direction, that the panic started to set in.

At first, it was slow, barely even detectable, then it overwhelmed her in waves.

She choked back her sobs. She was British, dammit. She did not cry in cabs. Yet, it proved difficult to keep the tears from falling.

Maggie was starting to feel a sense of urgency. It had already taken her hours to get here; what if she didn’t make it in time?

An eternity later, she arrived at the nursing home. She threw cash at the cabbie, not caring that she completely over-paid him, and rushed into the building. She completely bypassed the front desk, causing the receptionist to go into an uproar. But Maggie didn’t give a shit. In fact, she didn’t give a fuck. She was sprinting through the building now, almost crashing into people who were in her way. Finally, she skidded to a halt, and dashed into the quiet room.

She threw her bag beside the bed, and went to the woman who lay in it. Her white hair had gotten even thinner since Maggie had seen her last, and her cheeks even gaunter. Her wrinkled face looked almost peaceful as she slumbered.

As she stroked about the old woman’s hair, Maggie choked out, “How much longer?”

“Any time now. We think she was waiting for you.” Her mother jaw was set, and the rest of her face was stone, but her eyes shone of unshed tears.

Maggie then whispered to the singularly best woman she has, and ever will, known in her life. “Gran, it’s me, Maggie. I’m here. If you can hear me, I’m just letting you know I’m here.”

At first, nothing happened. Then, as if Maggie’s words had drifted slowly through the recesses of her mind, the woman began to stir. Then her eyes shot open.

“Maggie?” The woman croaked out.

“Yes Gran, I’m here.” She clutched her grandmother’s hand.

“Maggie, thank God you’re here. I have to- I have to tell you before it’s too late, Maggie. You’re the only one who would understand.” The woman’s grip was painfully tight, and her voice was frantic, but her eyes burned.

“What is it?”

“Listen to me, Maggie. Some men came for me in the dead of night. They gave me something that drew me, ME, out of this disease. Then they gave me sodium thiopental.”

“Truth serum?” Maggie looked at her grandmother, the confusion evident in her eyes.

“Yes. And I told them things. Things that were supposed to die with me. I’m the last one, and it was supposed to end with me. Maggie, you have to stop them. You have to! If you don’t-” Her grandmother was overtaken by a coughing fit that wracked through her frail body.

“Gran, what are you talking about? What things?”

She continued coughing, until finally when it faded, she spoke, but much, much weaker.

“Project-project Lab Rat. You’ve got to stop them, Maggie. You’ve got to…”

Her voice trailed off, and in that moment, the woman who had shaped Maggie into who she was, who had shaped the world, ceased to be anymore.

***

Steve ambled alone through Ronald Regan National Airport in Washington D.C., feeling nothing in particular. He wasn’t happy (hadn’t been in a long time) and he wasn’t depressed. He felt sort of empty.  
His last excursion may have lead him nowhere; he wouldn’t know until he gained access of the information on the laptop. He needed to find someone who could help him with it, because heaven knows he couldn’t do it.

In the corner of his eye, he caught a woman pointing at him, so he lowered his ball cap, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and trudged on.

He was about to grab a cab, when his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He fished it out, and swiped to answer (he was really getting good with his phone.)

“Hello.”

“Hey Steve, I see you’re back in D.C.” Natasha’s voice rang out through his phone.

“How do you-You know what, never mind. What’s going on?”

“I was just calling you to let you know Peggy Carter passed away last night…” Natasha’s voice was gentle, but that didn’t stop it from feeling like a knife to the gut.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, Steve.”

He stood in the middle of the sidewalk, with people rushing around him, and he couldn’t stop his heart from seizing. Of course he knew this would happen. He had tried to prepare himself for this. He had been naïve to think he could.

“The funeral is tomorrow afternoon, in case you wanted to know.”

“Yeah, thanks Natasha.” He ended the call, and stood there a bit more. When he finally felt a bit more composed, he hailed a cab.

***

“Margaret, or Peggy, Carter was an extraordinary woman. This is not an opinion, but a fact. She achieved so much in her lifetime, and majority of it is unbeknownst to everyone here. Only Peggy knew the extent of all the good she did, and never once did she seek praise or recognition. Peggy grew up in a world where it was unheard of for a woman to be more than just a pretty face and good wife material. She lived in a world of sexism, misogamy, and inequality, and overcame all of that to became a complete, excuse my language, badass.”

Laughter rippled through the crowd, and even Steve gave a weak smile.

The girl at the podium was delivering Peggy's eulogy. She was young, no older than twenty three, and even though Steve sat in the back, half hidden in shadows, he could see her nose ring. She also the tips of her hair dyed a light purple color. And yet, despite all of this, this young woman strongly reminded him of Peggy; her way of speaking; her mannerisms; even her smile, as fainthearted as it was.

"She served her country and its allies in their hour of need against Nazi Germany, and did so spectacularly without so much as smudging her lipstick. And after she was done kicking ass, pardon my language again, and taking names there, she continued on fighting for the safety and freedom of other people, most of the time risking her own life. But of course, this wasn't enough for Miss Peggy Carter; she wanted it all. And she got it. A few years after the war, she married her husband of 67 years, James Montgomery Falsworth, they had three children, which led to seven grandchildren, and one future great-grandchild. Peggy was a true matriarch, and each and everyone one of her family holds something about her dear. I remember very well summers at her house here in D.C. We spent three months constantly playing a game we liked to call 'Secret Agents'. We would go undercover to defeat Hydra, which we always did. And sometimes, she and I would take turns dressing up as Captain America, so we could assist one another, because really, we weren't damsels in distress, but that shield of his sure did come in handy."

Steve really did smile at that. Yep, she definitely reminded him of Peggy.

"I could go for eternity about how great this woman was, and still is. But I believe at this point she would say that I've made my point, get on with it. So, the last thing I shall say is, by Peggy moving on to the next life, she left the world a little bit darker, and I will try to the best of abilities to make it lighter once more in her name. And I know, am not the only one. Thank you." The young woman came out from behind the podium, and sat in the front pew with the rest of her grieving family.

Steve was blown away about how powerful, and true to Peggy, her eulogy was. He continued to watch her as she bowed her head, and her shoulders shook gently. He was startled when he realized that he was crying also.

***

Maggie watched desolately as they lowered her grandmother's coffin into the ground. She simply couldn't do it. She was so incredibly sad, and just a bit angry. But most of all, she was confused. She didn't know what to do about her grandmother's last words. Her family dismissed them as delusional, a by-product of her Alzheimer's. But Maggie wasn't so sure.

She tore her gaze away from her grandmother's grave.

The day was bright and sunny, but not stifling hot. Perfect weather, really. The cemetery grass was vividly green, and the trees were alive with their blossoms. The grounds were so beautiful, and that was the most morbid thing of all. The land was vibrant and pulsating with life while it kept the dead forever.

Before her thoughts could turn completely morose, she saw a figure out some distance leaning against a tree. It was clearly a man, women typically weren't that tall or shaped like that. In fact, most men weren't that tall or shaped that way. She actually focused on him, and immediately she knew who he was. She wondered if he would come.

Her staring at him must have caught his attention, because he nodded in her direction, and after a moment's hesitation, she nodded right back.

After the ceremony, she stood behind the funeral home with her sister. The rest of her family was milling about, greeting people and making small chitchat, but Maggie wasn't in the mood for it, so she came back here alone. Not ten minutes later, Sarah joined her. She immediately pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and puffed on it like her life depended on it. Maggie made a face, and Sarah rolled her eyes. They didn't speak, just stood in each others silence.

Maggie noticed that Steve was still standing by the tree, staring at Peggy's grave. She watched him, sort of interested, sort of not, just to see what he would do. Sarah was on her third cigarette by the time he moved. He ambled towards Peggy's grave, hovered for a minute or two, laid down a flower, then walked away. It was when he started the trek back that Sarah noticed him.

"Holy shit, is that who I think it is?"

"Yeah, he's been here for a while."

"And you didn't say anything?" Sarah hit her arm. Maggie just shrugged. Maggie glanced over to the rest of her family, and saw that they had seen the captain too. Her family, bless their souls, didn't know what to do.

"I'm not sure how I feel about this." Sarah let out a huff of smoke. Maggie just looked at her. "I mean on one hand, Gran and him had a thing so its weird, but on the other he's so fucking fit I want to jump his bones."

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? You going to do this? RIGHT NOW?" Maggie's stare at Sarah was so incredulous, she knew exactly how her face looked.

"What? Everybody grieves in a different way, Maggie. All this funeral shit has made me super horny, and I can't help it he looks delicious." 

"Can you not do this?"

"What? Jealous that he'd pick me over you? I mean, I am prettier."

She looked at Steve, leering, fucking LEERING, at the man. And you could tell he saw, seeing how visibly uncomfortable he got. A rage inside Maggie grew, not because of the prettier comment, she was used to that, but because Sarah was being so audaciously disrespectful of Gran.

Maggie yanked the cigarette out of Sarah's mouth, threw it on the ground, stomped on it, and said, "Those things will kill you."

And she walked away. Well, it was more of a march really. And she was heading straight towards Steve. He seemed a little taken aback, but he met her halfway.

"Hello, I'm Maggie Middleton." She held out her hand, and he took it.

"Steve Rogers." Their handshake was brief, but she felt the warmth of his hand and all the callouses that were there, and she was momentarily disarmed. Internally, she shook it off.

"Yes, I gathered that." She offered him a small smile, which he returned.

"You know, my family isn't quite sure what to do with you." Maggie stared straight into his silvery blue eyes, and he held her gaze. He was silent for a bit. Then-

"But not you."

"But not me. I just wanted to come over here to offer you my condolences."

"Aren't I supposed to offer you mine?" Steve tilted his head to the side.

"I suppose you are, " Maggie shrugged, "But you only knew her for a couple of years before you were put in suspended animation, and when you woke Alzheimer's had her. I think that's the true tragedy of all this, thus my condolences."

Steve stared at Maggie a bit more, but it was clear he wasn't seeing her. When he finally snapped out of it, he murmured, "Thank you."

"No, thank you. I know you visited her during her final days. You were a great comfort to her."

"It was really no trouble." Steve glanced down as his foot shuffled around in the grass.

"Well, thank you all the same." They stood there a bit awkwardly before she finally said, "Um, have a good day, I guess."

"Yeah, you too"

She turned to walk away, and she had every intention to. But there was that voice in the back of her mind, not giving her a moment of peace. Before she knew it, she was swinging back around to face Steve. His face was startled, but it quickly turned to concern.

"Look, I don't know if I should even say this, because I'm not sure if it was even real, and everyone in my family is giving logical reasons as to why its not, but I can't seem to shake the feeling that it is, and I'm going half mad trying to figure out if I think it is because I want to hold on to her anyway I can, or because it actually is-"

"Whoa, slow down. What's going on?" Steve held his hands up. Maggie took a deep breath.

"Right before she died, Gran told me that some men came to her, and got information out of her that no one else knew, because everyone else had died. She said I had to stop who ever it was. But I don't know if she was telling the truth, or if she THOUGHT she was. It seemed like she was, because I could see that fire that used to burn in her eyes, but I'm still not sure..." Now it was Maggie's turn to stare at the ground.

"Did she say what kind of information it was?"

"Yeah, she said it was Project Lab Rat or something."

"Did you say 'Lab Rat'?" Something in Steve's voice made Maggie look up. His gaze upon her was very intense.

"Yes." Her words were almost a whisper. Was she really not imagining things? "Does that mean anything?"

"Maybe. I'm not sure. It could be nothing." Steve glanced away, looking towards the horizon as if the answers lie there.

"But maybe it is. Better safe than sorry right?" Steve's eyes snapped back to hers.

"Yeah."

"We should probably go check this out immediately right?"

"Yes, definitely."

"Well, let's be off."

"What about your family?"

Maggie looked back, and saw majority of her family's eyes were on her, but Sarah's eyes were particularly hawk-like. Some people's faces were curious, some were furious, and some were in-between. And she found that she really didn't care what they thought. If they weren't going to honor her grandmother this one last time, even if it ended up being bust, then by God she would, to hell with them.

She turned to face Steve again, "They'll be ok."

"You don't even want to say 'Goodbye'?"

"Nope. They know why I'm over here. They'll try to dissuade me. And sometimes you need guts more than you need reason." At her last words, Steve slowly smiled, and Maggie, trying really hard to focus on the matters at hand, couldn't help but notice how beautiful he was.

"Alright, my bike's parked over here." He gestured to a mostly empty lot, near them, but far from her family.

"Your bike, like your BICYCLE?" Maggie was stunned. What the hell was Captain America doing on a bicycle?

"No," Steve said slowly, "My motorcycle."

"Oh, right. Yes, that would make a lot more sense." A flush crept up her cheeks. Well, that was just stupid of her, wasn't it?

"Yeah, it would. Shall we?"

They strode towards his bike, and Maggie could feel the holes being burned into her back. But she didn't turn around. She didn't need to. Even if this lead nowhere, she would be able to endure the ridicule, because she had done what she thought was right. Which is why, whenever she tucked her dress around her when she straddled the seat of Steve's bike, and he roared the engine to life, and took off after she wrapped her arms around his waist, she still didn't look back when she heard her mother calling her name.


	2. What Do We Have Here?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Maggie head to look for anything that could indicate that Peggy's dying words were true. A few...interesting things happen in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost, thank you for the Kudos.
> 
> Second, I'm not really sure how consistent I'm going to be in posting new chapters. So, I apologize in advance.
> 
> And third, enjoy!

Steve and Maggie flew through the streets of D.C. Maggie barely had her hands on Steve's sides, and sat with her spine rigidly straight. Which posed some problems when Steve turned. Or accelerated. Or decelerated. Really, it was just a problem. The whole situation was just  _odd_. She had grown up hearing sooooo many stories about him. There was even a period in time when she had Captain America collectibles. Like a lot. Like once, her and the late Phil Coulson had almost had a shouting match as to who was the bigger Captain America fan. She still wasn't really sure who won. Anyway, she always tried to exude confidence, but right now she was awkward and unsure. She didn't want to  _really_  touch him; she didn't want a certain type of feeling that came from hooking her arms around his waist that were sure to have those mouthwatering v-lines, and splaying her hands across his abdomen that was sure-she really didn't want to get started on his abs.

"You could hold on tighter, you know, in case you don't want to fall off!" Steve turned his head slightly to yell this at her, but still keeping his eyes on the road.

"Oh no, I'm fine. I-ahhhh!" They rounded a sharp corner, which nearly robbed Maggie of her seat, and she instinctively clung to Steve. She could feel him chuckle as she was pressed up against his back.

Dear Lord, he was  _warm_. Seriously, he was like a furnace. Maggie felt like she was going to melt right there on his bike. Then she noticed the firm definition of his abs that her hands felt under his shirt. And she wasn't even pressing down! No, she wasn't going to melt. She was going to perish. On the spot.

They entered a subdivision, and Maggie mentally slapped herself. She had far more important matters at hand. She had shit to do, it didn't matter if Steve's body was lovely, and distracting, and a work of art, and oh so toned-Maggie slapped herself again.  _FOCUS_.

They pulled up to the modest, two-story, whitewash house. It was exactly how Maggie remembered, with it's slate grey roof and matching window shutters, and and it's bold scarlet door, and the overflowing daises in the flower boxes, and the blue hydrangea bushes in front, and the tall brick chimney. The only thing she didn't remember was a hoodlum spray-painting her grandmother's garage door.

"Oi!," Maggie roared as she leaped off of the motorcycle while it was still moving. "What the hell are you doing, you fucking wanker! Get the fuck off the property!"

The boy, who was probably sixteen at most, turned around looking startled, which turned into something else as he took Maggie in. You see, Maggie had always been on the short side, barely two inches over five feet, but she was curvy in not-so-subtle ways. She had to constantly work out because she gained weight so easily, but nothing she did could make her bum and boobs shrink. So, because of all this, she knew the exact look this  _boy_  was giving her.

"Hey, baby. How you doing?" His mouth was twisted in a sneer. Maggie felt pure revulsion rise through her.

"Get the hell off the property."

"Oh yeah," he taunted, "What are you gonna do? Kick me off yourself? Show me what you got, baby."

Maggie changed her whole demeanor. She fluidly changed her posture from rigid anger to seductive.

"You...want to see what I've got?" Maggie tugged the front of her dress down slightly, revealing quite a bit of cleavage. The boys's eyes immediately looked down. Which was perfect.

While he ogled Maggie's chest, she delivered a rather nasty uppercut to the boy's chin. He stumbled back, and Maggie followed him. He was still reeling when Maggie grabbed him by his bony shoulders, and kneed him in the groin. He let out a wheeze of pain, and as he doubled over she grabbed him by the scruff of his collar and threw him towards the sidewalk.

"How's that for what I got! Now, get the fuck off the property!  _And_  don't you ever speak to a woman like that again, you cretin!" The boy scurried away sporting quick-forming bruise on his chin and cupping his balls.

Maggie let out a huff. She turned to Steve, who had the look of utmost astonishment on his face. His mouth was even slightly open.

"Well, are you coming?" She raised her eyebrows at him, then turned on her heel to stride towards the door.

"Oh. Yeah. Coming" She could hear Steve hurrying after her. That made her smile a bit.

She went up the worn brick steps, but stopped halfway to bend down and retrieve the spare key from a potted plant. Steve bumped into her bum, which pushed her forward a bit, and Steve grabbed her hips with his rather large hands. Then he quickly removed them, as if burned.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to run into to you like that." Steve's words came out in a jumble, and when Maggie looked back, his cheeks were a deep red. Maggie straightened herself.

"You're fine, Steve. That was my bad. Shouldn't have stopped like that." Maggie went on to the door, acting like she wasn't affected, but her hips still tingled from where Steve's hands had been, and she found she was kinda short of breath. But if she was honest with herself, it wasn't because of his simple touch, it was because of what she had felt when his groin collided with her butt. She tried really hard not to think about it, but as she inserted the key to unlock the door, she couldn't help but think that serum must have enhanced  _everything_. 

Maggie opened the door, but didn't cross the threshold. Sunlight flowed into the foyer, and a dull shine reflected back from the wooden floor. She was only staring down the hallway, but she knew nothing had changed. God, it even smelled the same. The fragrance of that old Chanel perfume still wafted through the house. Maggie tried to swallow the lump in her throat that had suddenly formed, and fight back the tears, but they rolled steadily down her face. It was a crushing feeling, knowing that this house, that meant so much to her, was never going to be the same.

"Are you alright?" Steve voice was a bit hesitant, but full of worry and concern. Maggie quickly wiped her tears.

"Yeah. It's just a bit hard, you know?"

Steve didn't say anything. He didn't need to. They both knew that he did.

Maggie stepped inside, but didn't go very far. She drew up next to where the foyer opened up to the lounge on one side and the breakfast room on the other. Steve came in and shut the door, then stood there, with his hands in his pockets, and waited for her. Once again, she was struck with just how abnormal all this was.

Maggie sighed. "There may be something in the office, but I doubt it. If all this is somehow relevant to you, then it'll probably be in the closet. That's where she kept all her S.S.R. stuff." Maggie didn't move, and Steve remained silent.

"You know, I shouldn't even know that. For the first ten years of my life, I had no clue what was in there, that closet. It was always locked, so I didn't think much of it. But one night, I caught her in it, looking over files and what not. I guess she was feeling nostalgic. I asked her what was all in there. She wouldn't tell, so I decided to find out for myself. I thought I was so sneaky, picking the lock when she was out in the garden. I should've known she had booby trapped it. But surprisingly, she was only mildly upset. 'Margaret Jane Middleton, you know better than to go in there. That closet is full of things that aren't meant for you to see! There's more than meets the eye here.' After that, I got smarter, and that was the only time she caught me." Maggie grinned at the fond memory, and she saw Steve was also.

" The only time she caught you? How many times did you break in?"

"I lost count." Maggie shrugged and grinned even wider. "Its over here." Maggie walked straight down the hall to the closed closet door. She took out a bobby pin in her hair, and broke it in half. She used the lock to make a tension wrench and a pick. She inserted the wrench at the top, and wiggled the pick in until she felt all the pins move. Turning both tools, she unlocked the door. This was probably her best time yet.

"I'm impressed." Steve's voice came from directly behind her shoulder. He must have moved closer to see what she was doing, because she could feel his breath on the crook of her neck . She fought the shivers.

"Thank you. Now, duck."

"What?"

Maggie dropped down, and with one hand opened the door, and the other to pull Steve. Thank goodness he let her. A sharp  _zing_  whistled through the air, then a small thud. They looked back at the wall behind them, and found a dart embedded there, still swaying from being stopped abruptly.

"Is that the bobby trap you mentioned?" Steve straightened and so did Maggie.

"Yeah. It's a tranquilizer. I was out for a day." Maggie turned back, gasped, and hurriedly reached for the light.

"What-" The closet was completely empty. "No. No, this isn't possible. Everything  _should_  be in here." Panic welled up inside of her, and Maggie's eye frantically searched around, even though it was clearly obvious there was nothing.

"Are you sure no one's moved it?" Steve's brow furrowed with concern over her seemingly over-the-top reaction. But it was very justified. Maggie couldn't seem to get the breath back into her lungs, and her brain couldn't quite process what was happening.

"No. No one would dare," her words came out in breathy whispers, "She drilled it into our heads not do anything with her stuff until S.H.I.E.L.D, or the government now I suppose, came. She said even touching it could be considered treason. Besides, no one but her had access to this closet."

" _You_  have access to this closet." His words were gentle, as if if his voice had been just a touch more assertive, it would have pushed her off the edge. And it probably would too.

" _I'm_  the only one brave enough to."

Finally, her mental capabilities caught up to her, and she took a look around. She went to the opposite wall, pulled out the dart, and examined the hole made from it, then the dart itself. The tip of it had plenty of Sheetrock residue.

"This hole is new, so either they Spackled then painted the wall, or someone got hit."

"What are you talking about?" Steve eyes followed her in surprise as she dropped to the ground.

"The people that stole the things from the closet. Keep up, Steve." She ran her fingers across the floor, searching. Aha! There it was, a clear indent in the wood, that could only be caused a rather large and heavy man, not a slight ten-year-old girl. She hopped back up, and reached for the closet doorknob. It was loose, as if someone had been holding on to it as they fell back unconscious.

"Should have noticed that." Maggie muttered to herself.

"Maggie, I don't know-"

Maggie didn't give him a chance to finish she was perusing around the house checking signs for forced entry. Seeing none on the ground floor, she proceed upstairs, with Steve calling out name at the bottom of the stairwell, looking distinctly disgruntled. Upon coming up with nothing, she moped back downstairs, and faced Steve.

"Are you done now?" His exasperation was creeping into his tone.

"Of course not. I  _will_  find out how they got in. I just need to think more creatively."

Steve sighed before he spoke. "Are you sure they didn't have a key? Are you sure someone in your family just didn't move them?"

Maggie gave him a sharp look; one she was sure he would recognize, seeing how she learned it from the master herself.

"Steve, while there are some slightly mentally deficient people in my family, no one is  _that_  stupid. If you're not going to help me, that's fine; just please don't get in my way."

She maneuvered around him, and went to see if there was anything in the back garden. Her fingertips were barely on the door handle, when the door gently swung open. That definitely shouldn't happen. The back door was a right bother to open. she looked closely, and saw it was missing the latch. Correction, the latch was inside the strike plate.

"Steve, come look at this." His hesitant footsteps came up next to her. Then she heard him inhale a sharp breath.

"It looks like its been sliced clean through. What could have caused that?"

"High energy laser, or something similar in nature," Maggie shrugged, "Now do you believe me?"

"Yeah," Steve's eyes were reproachful, "I'm sorry I didn't before."

Maggie nodded at Steve's apology, then sighed. "Thank you, not that it matters anyway." Steve raised his eyebrow at her words. "You believing me still leaves us with nothing. All we know is, is that we don't know what we're looking for, and even if we did any additional information is now gone, thanks to the pricks that broke in and stole the files."

"But didn't you read the files whenever you broke into the closet?"

"Yes, but there was nothing in them that said anything about 'Project Lab Rat' or anything. And before you ask, yes, I  _am_ sure. The only hope we had would have been for us to lift the redaction off the files. "

Maggie turned away, and stomped down the hallway into the sitting room. She flung herself onto the hideous floral print sofa, and stared up desolately at the  moulded ceiling. Steve had followed her, but hesitated at the door.

"We have nothing to go on. She was so frantic to let me know, to get me stop whatever it is, and we have  _nothing_." Her voice cracked with suppressed emotion, and tears welled in her eyes. Steve moved steadily towards the couch, and sat next to her. He didn't say anything, nor did he offer any physical comfort. But she didn't need it; him sitting next to her was enough. Maggie knew he felt the same way she did. It was an overwhelming feeling knowing they had failed a woman who had such an impact in their lives.

They sat in silence. Maggie's thoughts were a dark swirl, and by the look on Steve's face, he had a storm raging in his mind.

The shadows in the living room grew longer as the sun grew lower in the horizon. Maggie lost track of how long they had been there.

"Are those-" Steve's voice sounded suddenly, and Maggie jumped.

"I'm sorry?"

"Are those my...films?" His words were sheepish.

"Oh. Yeah, she has all of them." Maggie glanced over to the vast antique-white, carved entertainment center. The tapes were in a line on a shelf beside the telly. Steve rose slowly from the sofa, and made his way to the wooden cabinets. He rested his hand on the center over his head, leaned against it, and scanned what was there.

"It's been awhile since I've even  _thought_ about these. These were made over 70 years ago. Jeez, that makes me feel old." A small smile was on his face while he shook his head.

"Well, if it helps, you don't look a day over 71." Maggie flashed him a grin, and Steve chuckled. While he was still looking at the shelf, Maggie couldn't help but give him the once-over. Yep. He  _definitely_  didn't look his age.

"You're right; she really does have-had all of them."

Maggie sighed heavily. "Yeah. Their mine now, though." Steve turned to look at her, his eyebrows furrowed, questioning. "Anything that has something to do with you or the S.S.R. that she can give me, is mine."

"Why?"

"I'm a P.H.D. candidate for history. 20th century, with a focus on World War II, and how it affected the world after for the rest of the century. Needless to say, you and my gran, and the things you did, were important." 

"Now I really feel old."

"Sorry about it."

Steve turned back to the shelves, and began murmuring the names of the film. Maggie wasn't really listening, but one name did catch her attention.

"What did you say that last one was?" Maggie leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, and her focus directly on him.

"Uh,  _Captain America VS. The Third Reich_ _._ Why?"

Maggie stood quickly, and rushed over. "I've never seen that one. That one didn't make it to Theaters, because you went to fight in Europe. The film had been lost, and its the only one  _I_ haven't seen. And that's saying something."

"Are you sure Peggy didn't have it the whole time? Maybe she forgot about it."

"No, she would have told me..." Maggie removed it from its place, and nimbly dug the VHS tape out of its holder. She checked to make sure she didn't need to find a pencil and rewind it, then put in the VCR. She turned on the TV, then pressed play.

"Before the film starts, how do those things work?" Steve nodded his head toward the VHS tapes.

Maggie's eyes remained on the screen, watching film strip segments flash by. "Don't worry about it; that technology is so obsolete, it isn't even funny."

Finally, the film started rolling. Epic-esque music filled the air, while Captain America's face showed on the screen. A narrator grandiosely recapped for  the audience, and set the scene. Maggie cut a look at Steve, only to see a pained look on his face. She tried very hard not to smile, and turned her attention back to the film. Gun shots sounded from the telly, as Cap'n and his men fought the terrible Nazis. It was like any other 'Captain America' film.

Then without warning, the picture cut off. Confused, Maggie checked the VCR, and saw that it was still running.

"What happened to it?"

"I'm not sure." Maggie stuck her fingers in the flap, and noticed there was still a bit of film left. "That's odd," her words were a murmur. Then she stood straight up when she heard a voice that she never thought she'd hear again say her name. Maggie gasped. On the screen, was her grandmother. She looked about ten years younger. Her face held less wrinkles, she still had some weight on her, and her hair was still relatively thick. She looked like she did, right before her Alzheimer's had really set in.

"Maggie, if you're watching this, it can only mean one thing. I'm dead, and someone _knows_. This disease I have, will make me vulnerable to things I haven't been vulnerable to before. I fear someone will come for me, and if you're watching this, it seems me doing this is very prudent, indeed. And if you're the smart girl I know you are, you will have brought along Steve, if he has been found, which I never give up hope that he will. Hello, Steve."

Maggie, never having been so confused in her life, whipped her head around to Steve. It appeared he also was feeling the same way.

"Now listen to me very carefully; I can't say much just in case someone else is watching this by accident or not, but Maggie, you must remember _everything_ I ever told and taught you. It is pertinent that you do. All those times we played 'Secret Agent' wasn't for naught. Keep that in mind. Also, all those stories, especially about this house, I told you were true, just fashioned in a different way. Maggie, Steve, you two were,  _are_ the most important people in my life, and the only two I would entrust in with this. Godspeed."

And as suddenly as she came, she cut off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the plot thickens...and sorry for the cliffhanger. Ehehehe
> 
> Also Captain America VS. The Third Reich, isn't a real thing...I don't think...


	3. You Never Really Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie and Steve find some more interesting things. Seriously, what ALL had Peggy been up to?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I am so very, really, truly sorry for the chapter delay. At first I was busy with finals and all that bullshit, then I went home to visit my family. Again, I am deeply sorry.
> 
> 2\. Just a heads up, this is written in Steve's POV; lemme know how you like it.
> 
> 3\. Enjoy!

"Is-is that it?" Steve's voice broke the stunned silence, and seemed to bring Maggie out of her shock. She bent down to the picture-show machine, a VCR if he wasn't mistaken. She then stuck her fingers in the flap and peered in. Which he wasn't too sure about, because since when could you  _actually_ stick your fingers in anything, but he figured she knew what she was doing.

"Yeah, there's nothing else." She ejected the tape, and lethargically slid it back into its holder. He watched her slow movements, then glanced at her face. As she leaned across him slightly to put the tape back in its place, he saw her hazel eyes were distant and hazy, but behind them her mind was working overtime. After she put the tape up, she turned her back to him, and stayed still. So still that it scared him a bit. He would've thought she was paralyzed if she didn't still have muscle control in her body to let her stand. He reached out a hand to grasp her shoulder, but hesitated when he second-guessed himself and let his arm fall back to his side. She was obviously in deep thought, and he didn't want  to disturb her. She was clearly brilliant, in a very confusing way, but then again so was Howard, and Steve had been befuddled by him also.

Steve studied her as she contemplated whatever it was. Her shoulder were tense, and her hand was up to her mouth, presumably chewing on her nails. Her dark hair fell into gentle waves down to the small of her back, with ends of her hair the color of freshly blossomed lilacs. He briefly wondered how that was possible. He thoughts went lower than her hair, to curve of her ass, which, if Steve had to admit, was one of the best he had ever seen. In fact, she was very shapely, and Steve liked it very much so. He noticed that today's society preferred tall, extremely slender woman, and while today's society was far more progressive than the one he grew up in, Steve just couldn't quite see eye to eye on that.

Before his conscience could catch up to his less-than-pure thoughts, she turned around suddenly. He quickly snapped up his eyes to meet hers, and Steve tried to bury his guilty feelings, so it wouldn't show on his face.

"The house!" Her exclamatory words caught him off guard, and he jumped slightly. Then they just confounded him.

"What?" His eyebrows knitted together.

"She said to remember all the stories she told 'especially about this house'!" As quick as her epiphany came, she rushed out of the living room, out into the hallway, leaving Steve no choice but to follow.

When Steve entered the hallway, Maggie was nowhere to be seen, but the noises coming out of the office was promising. He approached the doorway cautiously. He glanced in, and saw Maggie practically ransacking the room. He had barely set a foot into the room, when Maggie started speaking.

"Gran used to say that this house was built by a paranoid schizophrenic who believed people were after him. Rumors say that he built, not only one, but several panic rooms in the house; Gran said that was one of the reasons she bought the house. The way her and Grandad always laughed it off, I assumed it was just a story, of course I didn't think that until after I nearly went mad trying to find them."

The walls were lined with cabinets and bookshelves, and Maggie was a quarter-way through the room opening the cabinet doors and riffling through its contents, and dislodging the books on the shelves above.

"My father obtained the blueprints to appease me. That's what I'm looking for."

"Would you like me to help?"

"No, thank you." Maggie waved him off as she moved on to the next cabinet. She flung open the wooden door, and stuck her hands and head in.

"Aha! Found it!" She pulled out a tube and raised it up. She stood up from her crouching position, and moved towards the desk. She opened the tube, and pulled out a rolled-up thin, blue piece of paper. Maggie unfurled the blueprints, and smoothed it out on top of the desk. Steve strode further in the room, and went around the desk to look at the prints with her. He wasn't sure what to look for, and also wasn't entirely sure Maggie did either, but she was going over every inch it, with her gliding her finger over every line.

"Anything?" Steve had to wait a few moments before she answered.

"No, but these blueprints could be faked. Its hilariously easy to dupe my dad;  _I_ would know. But there aren't any obvious indicators..." Maggie sighed, and ran a hand through her hair, her eyes gazing off into the distance, unfocused. Steve glanced back down at the desk. He examined the drawing, but like Maggie said, there wasn't anything obvious there. Then Steve heard Maggie take a sharp intake of breath. Steve shot his gaze to her. She was now completely focused.

"More than meets the eye..." Her words were murmured so softly Steve barely caught them.

"Maggie, would you mind telling me what's going on?"

"Oh yeah, of course. Steve look at the blueprints. See where the closet is?" She pointed to it. He nodded. "Well, according to this, the closet should be five feet deeper, see? And look at the closet." She gestured to the closet, which the could see at an angle from the wide doorway. Even though the angle wasn't the most ideal, Steve could clearly see the closet wasn't the dimensions listed on the blueprints. Steve glanced back at Maggie, they stared at each other briefly, then rushed to the closet.

Steve remained in the doorway while Maggie went to the closet's back wall and ran her fingers over it.

"Do you really think the panic room is on the other side? I mean, it would be, what, three feet across and five feet deep? That wouldn't be a lot of room." Steve questioned Maggie as she suddenly stuck her ear against the wall, and started rapping on it with her knuckles.

"It could always lead down..." She moved to right, and tapped the wall. She continued to do this, all while Steve watched feeling useless. He was extremely skeptical, but so far Maggie had been right at every turn. Maggie went on moving and tapping, and was coming closer to the edge of the right wall. Steve was about to say something, but Maggie beat him to it.

"Gotcha." She lifted up the hem of her dress, revealing several inches of her upper thigh and a garter with a small  pocketknife tucked in. Maggie withdrew it, flicked the blade open, then jabbed it into the wall in a swift and fluid motion. Steve was hugely impressed, and mildly frightened. She attempted to slice downward, but met resistance, and had to use both hands and pull down with her body weight.

"Jeez, how thick is this wall?" Her words came out with difficulty and exertion.

"Would you like me to..." He gestured to the knife.

"Just. A. Minute." She said between clenched teeth. She twisted the knife slightly, then started cutting to the left. She struggled for a while, until she reached a certain point. She let go of the knife, and moved to the side.

"There you go. Just try to keep to those measurement; I'm not sure what would happen if you don't." She was leaned up against the left-side wall, rubbing her presumably sore arms. Steve nodded, and grasped the knife in his hands. The wall  _was_ inexplicably thick, but it didn't pose a problem.

As he steadily move the knife up, he heard Maggie growl, "Fucking super serum." Steve smirked. He was careful in making sure length was equal, the turned the knife to complete the rectangle. Before he popped the Sheetrock out, he turned to Maggie.

"What exactly am I going to find under here?"

"Something that isn't wood or hollow wall." She shrugged.  _Shrugged_. He looked at her incredulously.

"What if it is something dangerous?"

"Really, Steve?" She raised a finely-shaped eyebrow at him. "What if its dangerous? I think we can both agree that whatever this is that we're doing, is going to get dangerous at some point. Besides, isn't that how you like it?" Steve just stared at her. She simply smiled wide. "If you don't want to, I would be happy to remove that bit."

"I got it." Steve shook his head. If he thought about it, he really  _did_ like it that way. He angled the knife up, and wiggled until the Sheetrock came loose and fell down to the floor. Steve stared at what it revealed.

"Hm, interesting. You never really do know a person, huh?" Maggie sauntered over and examined the hand print scanner. "A bit old school, but considering when she bought the house that's to be expected. Let's see what this bad boy can do." She placed her small hand inside the green grid-lines.

A blue light line went down, then back up again, and when she took her hand off it, the words on the screen read " _WELCOME MARGARET JANE MIDDLETON_ "

"Old school, but effective."

"Kinda like me, huh?" Steve grinned as Maggie barked out a laugh, that was abruptly cut off when the back wall started to rise.

Steve and Maggie took a step back. They both were slack-mouthed as they watched the wall slowly lift up noiselessly. Inch by inch, the rising wall revealed utter darkness. When the back wall had disappeared, they were left with a huge gaping hole. The blackness seemed impenetrable. Steve took out his phone and turned on the flashlight. The light illuminated a set of stairs that went down even beyond the reach of the light.

Maggie turned to him, "Shall we?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I apologize for the lateness of the chapter. 
> 
> Aaannndd, another cliffhanger. Just how I like it...


	4. One Thing Leads To Another

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Maggie follow the stairs down, and find something interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter four for y'all. Enjoy!

"Hold on, I'm going to get something a bit more powerful." Maggie gestured to Steve's phone, then scurried off to who knows where. Steve looked over his shoulder to see where she could have gone, but all he could hear was her hurried footsteps and random bangs and crashes. He turned his gaze back to the dark tunnel that presented itself moments ago. The light from his phone didn't reach to the end, and he wondered just how far the stairs went. He also wondered where they lead to. 

He heard a noise behind, and when he turned around he saw Maggie standing there with a rather large black flashlight.

"Say hello to my little friend!" She clicked on the light as she finished her pretty fair imitation of Al Pacino. "I call her 'Big Bertha'." Steve smiled at her goofiness.

Whenever she stepped up beside him, it was clear 'Big Bertha' illuminated far more than Steve's phone. And yet, the bottom of the stairs remained elusive.

Steve sighed, then asked, "Shall we?"

"We shall, Mr. Rogers." Maggie grinned cheekily up at him.

The entryway was wide enough for both of them to descend side-by-side. They stepped down cautiously, step-by-step, until eventually they were consumed by the darkness, and could no longer see the light from the closet. And down they still went.

"Goodness, how long do these go on? We're bound to be a mile under the house now." Maggie flicked the flashlight up, then around, her eyes following and observing what it revealed. When she swung it back to the stairs, Steve had to act quickly, and reached out an arm to prevent Maggie from falling into the gaping hole that appeared. His forearm caught right into the softness of her belly, underneath her breasts. Although she wasn't going down the stairs fast, the sudden materialization of the seemingly-endless pit sent her chest heaving, causing her boobs rise and fall on the back of his forearm, enlightening Steve to the fact that they were rather plump, and round, and soft.

_Just how he likes them_. The thought came unbidden into his mind, and he had to mentally douse himself in cold water. He need to concentrate on the matter at hand, not how much he desperately wanted cup her, and run his thumb over her nipple until it hardened, then push her up against the rough, concrete wall, and blaze of trail of open-mouthed kisses up and down her neck until she moaned from her desire. Nope, he completely needed to focus on the matter of there being no more stairs.

"Well," Maggie panted, which didn't help Steve in the least, "that was unexpected. And scary. Definitely scary. Thank you, by the way."

"Yeah, no problem." Steve was genuinely surprised of how unaffected he sounded.

Maggie, very warily, step down to the last stair, and shone the flashlight down.

"Can't see the bottom...hm..." Steve raised his eyebrows to her hum; he wasn't quite sure he liked the sound of it. "If I..." Steve raised his eyebrows even further, "laid on the stairs...would you hold me to make sure I don't fall in?"

"Sure...but why?"

"To see if I could see the bottom then."

"Do you think a couple of feet would make a difference?"

"It could, we would just have to see." Maggie shrugged.

"Alright." Steve sounded a bit skeptical, but he was secretly relishing in the fact that he was going to touch her again.

She lowered herself very carefully to her fours, with her upper body angling down. 

"Oh God, this is a bad idea. Holy shit, holy shit. Why am I doing this? This is so fucking dumb. Steve!"

"Yeah?" He was vastly overwhelmed from her freak-out.

"Grab on to me. And make sure when I'm finished to  _never_ let me doing anything like this again!"

Steve relaxed, crouching down to put his hands firmly on her hips, and she lethargically moved to shine the light over the edge and peer over it.

"Scared of heights, huh?"

"Nope. But I am scared shit-less of falling into pitch-black pit that may or may not lead directly into hell."

Steve chuckled before he asked, "Anything?" The heat from her voluptuous curves seeped into his hands, into his very bones, and he wasn't sure how long it would be until his mere touch turned into a seductive caress.

"Still darker than sin. Could you help me back up?"

Steve murmured his agreement, and gently tugged her hips back. He ignored the fact her back arched in alluringly, pushing her magnificent ass up. Or at least he tried to. Then her spine curved up, and she curled herself up languidly until she was on her knees. Steve kept his hands where they were as she climbed back up to her feet, just in case she stumbled. That's what he told himself, at least.

Maggie let out a huff of air. "Thanks, Steve. That was scary as fuck. Never again."

He took his hands off of her, and he felt ashamed. He had been an second away from touching her in a way that she had not given him permission to. He thanked God that he hadn't disrespected her like that, but he still felt the guilt eating away at him.

"Now what?" He ran a hand through his hair.

"We could jump down there; maybe that's where the panic room is. But, I don't really like that idea, so let's not." Maggie's last words came out in a rush. Steve wholeheartedly agreed. "Now, if I were a paranoid schizophrenic, where would I put a panic room..."

"Not at the bottom of that pit, that's for sure." Steve leaned away from the subject of his words.

"Yes, but why?" Maggie held her hands up to her mouth, pressing them together almost in prayer.

"One, because it would be too obvious. Two, paranoid schizophrenics often suffer hallucinations. That," Steve pointed at the gaping hole, "would do him in."

"Yes, of course. You're right. So, assuming the panic room is somewhere along this corridor, it would probably be hidden somewhere in the walls. Oh  _dammit_!"

"What is it?" Steve went into combat mode at her sudden outburst, and swung his head around to see what she was cursing at, ready to fight.

"We're gonna have to walk back up  _all_  those stairs. Ugh." Steve immediately became annoyed with Maggie, until he realized there were quite a lot of stairs, and while he would probably breakout in a minor sweat, Maggie would surely be exhausted come the top. 

"I'm almost tempted to let you climb up and down them until we find the entrance." Maggie continued.

"Oh really?" Steve glanced at her incredulously.

"Uh yes Steve, I am.  _You're_  the one with the super-soldier serum here, not me. And while I do exercise, my endurance is probably nothing compared to yours. But since we don't know what we're looking for, we'll go back up at the same time again. Give me a moment to mentally prepare myself." She closed her eyes and mouthed some words that seemed to be 'you can do this' for several seconds before she sighed and shot her eyes back open. "Let's do this."

Steve turned to the left wall, and Maggie to the right.

"So, what exactly are we doing?" Steve said over his shoulder.

"I'm just gonna run my hands up and down the wall, and investigate any anomalies." Maggie replied.

Before Steve could think anymore on where he wished she would run her hands over, he began to inspect the concrete slabs in front of him. He ran his fingers nimbly over the grainy surface, searching for any hint. Step-by-step they examined the walls to no avail. They were about three-quarters of the way back up before Steve detected something. There was a slight difference in the wall there. He ran his fingers back over to make sure. There was a small, barely raised patch on the concrete, like how a regular wall would feel where someone had Spackled.

"Maggie."

"Yeah?"

"I think there might be something here."

"Where? I don't see anything." She stood directly behind, peering around the left-side of his body. He reached behind him to grab her hand.

"There. Do you feel it?" He grazed her slender fingers over the spot.

"Yes. Do you think there's something there?"

"Only one way to find out." Steve cocked his right arm back, and let fly. The concrete cracked under his fist, and he punched it once more to truly break it up. Then he dug out the pieces to open the hole up.

"You've got a mean right-hook, Rogers." Maggie smiled mischievously up at him with a hand on her hip.

"Not as good as your uppercut." Steve grinned.

"Thank you, that means a lot." Maggie said with the utmost sincerity.

Steve turned his attention back to the newly created hole, studied it, decided to try his luck, then almost got his arm stuck.

"Hey, can you try to reach in there; my arm's too big."

"I bet." Maggie muttered as she smirked slightly. "If I may." She said louder, and gestured towards the hole. He took a step back, and she reached her surprisingly toned (well, toned for her body type) arm in, and began feeling around.

"I think I got something. Shine the light in." Steve held it up, and Maggie peered in. "Got ya." She did something that made a loud clicking noise, and the step right below them slide into the wall, revealing a ladder going straight down.

"Hm," was all Maggie said.

Steve shone the light down the tunnel, and there was most certainly a bottom this time.

"Do you mind me going down first, in case there's something dangerous? I don't want you to get hurt." Steve didn't take too long to marvel at the fact he had already formed a attachment to her.

Maggie raised her eyebrows. "By all means." She waved at him.

Steve handed her the flashlight, and proceed to climb down the ladder. When he closed his hands around the first rung, he let out a small gasp of pain.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, it's just my hand." He descended, and when he reached the floor, Maggie dropped the flashlight to him. He perused the light around the room, seeing nothing but desks and filing cabinets.

"Anything?"

"Not yet."

"How far do you think the drop is?"

"Uh," Steve judged the distance, "seven, seven-and-a-half feet. Why?"

"Would you mind taking a step back?"

Steve did as she requested, and once he did, Maggie simply stepped over the edge. She landed silently on the balls of her feet, crouching.

"Was that absolutely necessary? No. Was that time efficient and badass? Entirely." Maggie laughed as she stood up straight. Steve just shook his head with a small smile on his face.

"Let me see your hand." Steve lifted it into hers, her touch soft. She gently moved his hand this way and that, examining it. "You bruised it pretty bad, maybe even caused some fractures. Whenever we get back up in the house, I'll wrap it."  She released his hand, then moved to side, flicking on the light switch Steve had missed. The overhead florescent lights blinked on noisily, bathing them in an unpleasant glow.

Maggie strode over to the nearest filing cabinet, and pulled the drawer open with difficulty, the drawer making high-pitched screeching noises. She glanced in. "Well Steve, if you had any thoughts of getting a full eight hours of sleep, you might want to think again."

"That's alright; I haven't had a good night's rest since 1929." Steve rubbed the back of his neck.

"Oh, that's not so long. No compared to what we're gonna do with all this." She reached in, and pulled out an enormous stack of files and slapped them on the nearest desk with a dismayingly loud thud. Then she pulled out another equally large stack, and then  _another_. This continued for several moments. Then she reached for the next drawer, and repeat the process, until the filing cabinet before was empty. And there were only ten more cabinets in the room. Great.

There were stacks of files, not only on the desk, but on the floor surrounding it, so high that they were half of Maggie's height. She flipped open the file nearest to her.

"Just as I thought." She held up a piece of mostly blacked-out paper. "Redacted. But the good news is that these are the originals, so we can lift it. It's going to take forever and a day, but we'll get there. Hopefully.

"You know how to get that out?" Steve didn't know why he was so surprised; it certainly seemed like she was capable of anything.

"Yep. It's a simple matter of chemistry. I'm gonna go back up, and mix the solution. It's going to take a bit. Could you try and see if you can sort it? Maybe you can tell if something absolutely doesn't help us."

Steve nodded, resigned to the tedious task at hand.

"Thanks Steve, you're an angel; don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

He watched as she sauntered to the ladder, her hips swaying in an unconsciously seductive manner. When she climbed back up the rungs, and he stared her curvaceous ass, he couldn't help but think that he didn't think like any angel he had ever heard of.


	5. The Uncovering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie and Steve work to uncover what information the panic room's documents hold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am truly very sorry about not updating sooner. It's been rough, and it's probably gonna get rougher. I will try my damnedest to keep updating this fic.
> 
> On another note, HOW FUCKING AWESOME IS AGENT CARTER? I'm absolutely loving the series! And wishing it wouldn't end.

By the time Maggie reached the house again, it was completely dark. She paused in the closet, listening intently. Since it was now obvious that something was going on, there was a chance they were being watched. She perked her ears, listening for anything, any tiny sound that indicted she might not be alone up there. Upon hearing nothing unusual, she stepped carefully out, poised ready for a possible attack.

She crept from room to room, floor to floor, clearing the house. Not finding anyone, she hurried through the house, gathering the chemicals needed to create the lifting solution. After she did this, she went to the kitchen, and put a pot on the stove. Wasn't ideal, but would have to do.

Pouring the precise amounts of liquid into the warming pot in one hand, she used the other to dig her cell phone out of her bra. She dialed, then waited.

"Maggie? What the hell are you doing?" Maggie rolled her eyes.

"Mum, I need you to listen to me."

"No, you listen to me. I don't know what you think you're doing going off with that man, but-"

"Mum, its a Code Red." Her voice was low and sure, cutting her mum off efficiently.

"What?" Her mother's disbelief was clear, along with the hint of fear. Maggie understood perfectly. Gran had instilled a code system with family; it was necessary given her work. Depending on how dangerous the threat was to them, depended on the code. They had _never_ had a Code Red before.

"Yes, mum. I said Code Red. Everyone, and I mean  _everyone_ , needs to go dark." She stirred the pot with a wooden spoon.

"But we can't just up and do that! We have jobs, we have lives!"

"Well, no one will have a life if you don't go dark, mum. This is serious, whatever it is. If they think anyone has information, they will come after you. But if they did their research, their main focus will be on me. That will give you the room to do what you need to do."

"Oh Maggie, no. Please don't do this! Leave it to someone else. Leave it to that Captain America, just don't do this. Come with us, and be safe Maggie. You don't have anything to prove!" The panic had set itself firmly in her voice.

"And who exactly am I to leave this to? SHIELD? Oh wait, they got overrun by HYDRA! And as for Steve-"

"Oh so it's  _Steve_ now, is it?"

"Yes mother, seeing how that  _is_ his name. Anyway, as for Steve, he needs my help. He's been out of it for 70 years, for God's sake! He doesn't know what I know. As for proving something, of course I do. I need to prove that Gran was right to trust me with this; I need to prove everything we ever did together wasn't in vain. Please try to understand, mum."

"But I can't have you die on me too, Maggie! I can't!" Her mother's wails made her breath catch. She remained silent, the only sound coming from the bubbling of the solution. She drew in a ragged breath.

"Mum, I won't die-"

"Don't say that! You don't know that."

"Mum, stop. I won't die. Gran made sure of that. I have my mind and I have my training. That already makes my chances pretty good. And I also have Steve. That makes them pretty damn good. I'm not going to die, because I am coming back to you. You have my word. Now gather everybody,  _and go dark_."

"Where do we go, Maggie?" Her mum's cries rang through her ears.

"You know where you can go.  _Don't_ tell me. This line isn't secure. Remember what Gran taught us. Be careful, mum. I'll find you when this is all over. Goodbye. I love you."

"I-love you-too, Maggs." Her mother choked through her sobs.

Maggie hung up, stiffening her spine and tucking in her trembling lip. It didn't hit her until now how dangerous this could be. It had all seemed rather fun until now; now that she understood what the consequences could be.

She turned off the heat on the stove, and rummaged through the kitchen drawers for a funnel. She poured the solution, through a funnel, into large spray bottles meant for the plants in the greenhouse. Once she was done, she shoved them into a bag along with food and water, and headed for the closet.

As she approached the entrance to the panic room, she heard Steve cursing fervently. Chuckling as she descended the ladder, she was impressed with his colorful choice words. Most of the words from the 30's and 40's, but every now and then he threw a more modern one. Nothing like cuss words to help one acclimate one to the times.

"Hey, I brought snacks."

"What?" He looked up, his brows furrowed and his hand running through his golden hair. Maggie really needed to stop thinking about how fit he was.

"Snacks. I've brought some."

"Weren't you supposed to make something to get this shit off?"

"Shit?" Maggie raised her brow.

"Yes, shit. It's fucking everywhere. Look!" Indeed, it was. He gestured to the piles upon piles of documents, all severely redacted, barely a word left to see.

"Yes, well we can now remedy that situation. Can you lay some papers out on the desk?" She put the bag on the ground, unzipping it and retrieving the spray bottles, while he moved some things around and arranging the papers neatly on the table's surface.

"Alright, step back a bit. We shouldn't really inhale this stuff."

"I'll go open the vents."

She nodded, squeezing the handle sending a mist over the papers. She sprayed over half of the papers when she heard an ear-splitting screech. Turning swiftly around, and caught Steve on top of a chair with a chunk of metal hanging from his hand.

"It wouldn't budge." Steve shrugged.

"I hate to see what you do to people who won't budge." She murmured under her breath.

"I usually just punch them out of the way."

Maggie snorted as he headed over to the other vent. Again, the metal screamed as Steve ripped it away. Once he was done, he walked back over to Maggie's side. He wasn't standing too close, but his heat radiated off of him, almost causing Maggie to break out into a sweat, and not because she was overheated. Well, she was getting overheated but not due to the temperature.

"Well, I'll be damned. Its working." On the first of documents, the redaction was fading, the words almost distinguishable.

"Of course it is. I'm doing it."

"Don't get too cocky, Middleton. It's not a good look." Even though her focus was on the task at hand, she could hear his smile.

"Oh shove off, you like it." She grinned wide. He shifted away from her. From the corner of her eye she saw him gazing at her intently, a small smirk playing on his face.

"I'll give you this; you are very capable."

"And you like capable, don't you."

"Yes. I love capable women."

Maggie refused to look at him, maintaining her eyes on the papers as she reached the end of them. She desperately needed to steer the subject somewhere else or else she was going to end up on her back with her heels up soon.

"As do I, Steve. As do I."

"Love capable women?" His confusion was apparent, and was that a bit of disappointment she heard, she hoped?

"Yes. They make the world keep turning. And honestly, we need more. I'm finished with these. Could you read and sort them, while I do another batch?"

"Yeah, sure." He gathered them, and Maggie laid down some new ones.

After that they fell silent, working diligently. Maggie would have to take breaks every now and then to get away from the chemicals, and eat and drink something, while Steve steadily consumed the food and water while he read. Eventually Steve had two substantial, definite stacks. They had gotten through most of the papers when Steve said something.

"Hey Maggie, will you take a look at this?"

"Sure." She wiped the sweat off her brow and headed over to him. "What is it?"

"See this paper?" Maggie looked down at it.

"Yes. It's in Morse code."

"Yeah, but so far there's been codes here and there that signify that certain papers belong together in a folder. But this one doesn't have that. It's by itself."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

"Well, I haven't translated Morse code in a while, so I might be rusty."

"Not as long as I have." Steve laughed.

"Well, that's a given. May I?" She reached a hand out and he gave her the paper. She reached for a pen on the desk, and started decoding.

The message read:

.--. .-.. .-. .-.-.- / .-. . -. -.. . --.. ...- --- ..- ... / .--. --- .. -. - / ...-- ----- .-.-.- ---.. ...-- ...-- ..... ..... --... --..-- / -....- ----. --... .-.-.- -.... -.... ..--- -.... -.... ...-- .-.-.- / ... . . / -.-- --- ..- / ... --- --- -. / -.. .- .-. .-.. .. -. --.

She translated the message, with help from Steve, getting more and more excited as she went on, until it read in English.

PLR. RENDEZVOUS POINT 30.833557, -97.662663. SEE YOU SOON DARLING

"I think we found it, Steve." She looked at him, with a smile on her face, and he had one on his. 


	6. Back to the Light

"Are you sure, or am I just hallucinating? I feel like the chemicals are starting to affect me." 

"Oh, they absolutely are, but no you're not hallucinating." Maggie laughed, feeling a little bit woozy.

"You sure?" Steve ran a hand through his hair.

"Positive. We wouldn't be having the same hallucination. Now, lets see where these coordinates lead..." Maggie stared down at the paper.

"Is there a map anywhere?" Steve half-stood, searching around the room that was drowning in chemical-soaked papers.

"No need." Maggie murmured.

Steve swung around to look at her. "Are you...doing that in your head?"

She nodded. These coordinates were in the new geographic coordinate style. That didn't mean anything though; SHIELD could have been using them before the public got around to it. 30.833557 degrees latitude, that put it in the Northern hemisphere...-97.662663 degrees longitude, in the Western hemisphere...narrowing in a bit, Maggie put the coordinates somewhere in the United States. That was a relief, but where more specifically? The coordinates put it more southwestern that D.C.; travel would be required. She thought of all the coordinates of major cities southwest to D.C. The only one close enough was Austin, TX. Which was...convenient...and totally non-coincidental...

"These coordinates are somewhere north of Austin; we can google it to see where specifically."

"I thought you were gonna give us an exact location." Steve smirked.

"Nobody can have it all."

"You seem like you're close."

"Not at all. There are some areas in which I severely lack."

This tension between the two of them was almost getting unbearable. There was tension between them right? Maggie had a difficult time understanding that. Really, how could there be tension, of the sexual kind, between  _her_ and Steve Rogers, bloody  _CAPTAIN AMERICA_? It wasn't possible. Was it? It must be all in her head. It had to be all in her head or else she wouldn't be able to give all her attention to this case that clearly demanded all of it.

"Yeah, and what are those areas?" Steve crossed his arms.

"I'm a terrible cook." She tried not to eye his biceps.

"That's it? You can't cook?" He snorted

"Welllll..." Steve raised his eyebrows. "That's not entirely true. I'm a decent baker, especially with these special cupcakes I make. But unfortunately, I cannot live by eating only eating baked goods, as sad as that it; its just far too unhealthy."

"Special cupcakes? What makes them so special?"

"Can't tell you; family secret. But we've gotten way off topic."

"What topic? The one with you being practically perfect?"

It was Maggie's turn to snort. Actually, she more than snorted. She barked out laughter that reverberated against the concrete walls.

"As if! No, the topic in which we have to now make travel arrangements."

"Oh yeah."

"'Oh yeah's right. Come on, let's get out of here. Those fumes are getting noxious." Maggie moved towards the ladder, but Steve's voice stopped her momentarily.

"Shouldn't we clean up first?"

"No. I need clean air or else I'm gonna faint. You'd be able to hold out longer than me, but you'd collapse too. I'll come back after we're done with this whole Project Lab Rat thing."

Steve nodded his head, and followed her. Of course, Maggie went up first. Once she reached the top, she murmured a soft warning to Steve about his injured hand. Sitting down on the stairs, she put her elbows on her knees, resting her face in her hands. She was trying very hard to suppress the waves of nausea threatening to overcome her. She took deep breaths of the fresh air, trying to regain her composure. Suddenly, she felt a very large and very warm hand on her shoulder.

"Maggie, are you alright?"

"Yeah, just feeling a little sick. I'll be alright in a minute."

"Are you gonna be able to climb back up the stairs?"

"Oh god. I forgot about the stairs." Maggie groaned. She almost threw up then and there. Just the thought of them...she shuddered.

"I can...carry you...if you'd like..." Steve's voice was extremely hesitant. Maggie wasn't too keen on the idea either. She didn't know what would happen, being in that close proximity to him, and she didn't want to know, but what choice did she have? She knew she wouldn't be able to make it back up the stairs without, best case scenario, vomiting. And she really loathed vomiting.

"I'm sorry to say this, but you just might. I really don't feel well. Unless you're not well enough either. In that case, we might just stay here awhile."

"I'm fine. Its you I'm worried about. I need to get you away from that room. The fumes are coming up this way. Here." He held out his hand, which she took. Gently, but surely, he pulled her up until she was standing.

"Can you reach inside and close it real quick?"

Maggie nodded weakly and reached her arm in the hole, fumbling around a bit until she found the lever again and twisted. The step reappeared and closed off the room. Steve reached for her, ready to move on but she held up a hand.

"Before we start, how are you gonna carry me  _and_ hold Big Bertha?" She gestured to the huge flashlight.

"I thought  _you_ were gonna hold the flashlight?"

"Yes of course, sorry. Not thinking properly..." She mumbled.

Steve handed her the torch, and she made sure to point it away from him. Wouldn't do her any good if she blinded him. He crouched down, one arm going behind her knees, the to her back, and slowly lifted her into his arms. He didn't even make a sound of exertion. Color her impressed. Although not impressed enough to make her nausea to go away. She made a noise of discontent that came from the back of her throat. Clutching Big Bertha to her chest, she pointed it towards the stairs, illuminating the path back up. Steve began climbing them, surprisingly not rocking her too much. Still she felt the need to close her eyes and turn her face towards Steve's chest. Was it very moralistic of her? Absolutely not, but she wasn't going to waste this opportunity, and she damn well sure didn't claim to be a saint. His shirt was very much saturated in the chemicals, but underneath that she could smell his cologne. She recognized it immediately, given that it was one of her favorite scents. She wondered who recommended _Obsession_  by Calvin Klein to the good ol'cap. Whomever it was, she wanted to thank wholeheartedly.

She must have sighed or something, because Steve said suddenly, "You alright?"

She nodded, not trusting herself entirely to speak. He continued ambling up the stairs, and Maggie tried very hard not to give herself away.

Eventually, they emerged back in the closet. Maggie couldn't decide if she spent the last few minutes in heaven or hell. Either way, when Steve set her back down, she was relieved.

"How do you think we close this back up?" Steve asked as she sagged against a wall.

"I have no-" A rumbling sound cut her off. The wall lowered itself back down, the stairs disappearing from view.

"Well, that settles that."

"I'd say."

Steve reached out his hand towards her again, and they shut the closet door behind them.

**Author's Note:**

> The first part of the story will mostly involve Steve and Maggie. The rest of the characters and relationships will come later. This fic is rated Mature, for the sex scenes and highly suggestive language to come later.


End file.
